saving your troubles for the day ❍ soup ?

[michael t.]

ALL I FOUND THE SPACE BETWEEN THE SPACES
STANDING IN THE NOTHING, AND TIME RECLAIMS YOU

Michael had been rather quiet, as of late. That statement alone was quite the surprising one, given the dealer's history. Usually he was out and about, extroverted and charismatic as ever, even if it was in a rat sort of way. These past few weeks hadn't been the same, however. Not because the bobcat had lapsed into his old depressive states – although that had indeed been a worry once or twice – but merely because there wasn't much going on. There was no reason for him to go bolting from place to place, when he could enjoy some quiet time inside his home, caring for Franklin and cleaning up.

It had been a while since he had laid his paws on anything within his family's large hut, far too afraid of finding something else that brought back a rush of memories. Something else that would leave him in a heap on the floor, desperately missing Trevor and all that he had lost. Enough time had passed, though, that he felt confident he could manage. So, with Franklin by his side and a steady supply of music and stories in the background, Michael had finally managed to clean up his home. Indeed, it had been like a sort of miniature vacation.

It was time for him to once again venture out into the land of the living, however. He had duties to take care of, and honestly he was missing the company of anyone besides himself and Franklin. Roxanne, Diya, Vayne, hell, even that Danny kid... he missed them all. There was one face in particular that he was eager to see again, however – Harland. His relationship with the other feline very much still remained in the "undefined" category, but that was fine with him. As long as he got to enjoy the other's company and spend time with him, he found that he was happy, and content. He had honestly been a little surprised that Harland hadn't come to visit him during his impromptu sabbatical within his home. He knew the other didn't like intruding, but he had also figured that the smaller feline enjoyed his company in the same way that Michael did his. Of course, the bobcat had little idea of the issues that Harland was facing. He didn't know about the hardships that Har was trying to navigate, and the way that his body felt as though it was fighting against him.

What the dealer certainly hadn't been expecting was to find Harland at the tavern before anywhere else. He had known the other male to avoid the building like a plague, not exactly appreciating the torrent of noise that it usually represented. Still, Michael supposed it made a bit of sense, considering it was still fairly early on, and there was no one else there for their usual drinks just yet. Instead, there was just Harland – looking rather defeated, and coughing harshly. Michael's ears were pinned back as he approached, quick to rush over after Vayne. He carefully avoided the charred concoction that had been thrown onto the ground, his focus solely on Harland as he questioned, "Har? The hell were you doing in there? You should've asked somebody for help!" His tone wasn't really an admonishing one, however. Instead, he merely seemed worried. Shifting a little bit on the spot, the dealer spoke up once more, his mismatched blue gaze darting between Harland and Vayne, "Do you think I should go grab Roan? I don't know how much smoke he inhaled..." The soothsayer would know what to do, surely.

— Reggan